


Chase The Devil

by Dangit



Series: Song Fics [7]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Explicit Language, Gen, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Overdose, Reckless Behavior, Withdrawal Symptoms, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:22:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5826670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangit/pseuds/Dangit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Chase the devil tonight,<br/>They chase the devil tonight."<br/>-Eagles of Death Metal</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chase The Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Продать душу дьяволу](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13795953) by [NewBadGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewBadGirl/pseuds/NewBadGirl)



> Short and simple, that's my style. Eh, not really. This song is shorter, that's why the story itself is shorter. Next one will be longer.

_I'm ready to roll,_

_You know I'm getting ready to do it_

_I gotta feeling on a Saturday night_

_I'm gonna bow for a woman_

_Who could help me chase the devil, oh yeah_

_I'm gonna chase the devil tonight_

* * *

 There are whole chunks missing. Blank spaces and fuzzy memories. When he tries to think back, it’s all black. Faraway voices and strangers’ names. It hurts his head and it feels to wrong to look at the past. He feels like a stranger in his own memories.

The present isn’t all that much better. Everything is muted, surreal, like scenes playing from a movie. He feels detached from his body, like just a simple thought in an empty room. Is it really him beating up this scared teenager? Is it really him laughing as the kid throws up blood? Is it really him joking with Buffalo, ganging up on this pathetic child?

“Zoro!”

He looks up, and suddenly he’s back in his own body. Sounds, colors, emotions, they all return. Not that they’re welcome. Some part of him knows that he’s not supposed to feel this happy, this blissed out. He’s not supposed to feel light-hearted and excited. He’s not supposed to have this boiling anger simmering under the surface.

“Chill out, Baby,” Buffalo says, his hand fisting in the teenager’s matted hair.

“He owes three hundred, not a thousand,” Baby hisses. “You don’t have to beat the shit out of him! Zoro, you know better than this!”

He shrugs. “My bad,” he says. He got caught up in Buffalo’s excitement. The man is relatively new to the family, came in about a month before Zoro, but this is the first time they’ve worked together. He’s gotta say…he likes Buffalo’s style.

“Get out of here, kid,” Baby tells the scared teenager. “You got three days…I won’t stop them a second time.”

The kid nods hurriedly and staggers away, not bothering to look back.

Zoro runs a hand through his hair and grabs the beer bottle he left on the hood of Baby’s car. It’s warm but it’ll do. “So what now?” he asks, bored.

“You go home,” Baby snaps at him.

“Nah. Don’t wanna,” Zoro says. That’s a _really_ bad idea.

“I got a couple of other names on my list,” Buffalo says, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “Gladius still hasn’t been found, so I gotta take care of his route.”

“Still?” Baby asks, frowning. “It’s been almost a week. You don’t think anything happened to him…do you?”

“I don’t know of anybody outside the family that can take him in a fight,” Zoro says. “I sure wouldn’t like to fight him.”

“Maybe Bellamy got him,” Buffalo snickers. “Wasn’t he supposed to kill him?”

Zoro glances at Baby. They both know Bellamy is alive and kicking, but as far as Zoro knows, he’s got nothing to do with Gladius’ disappearance.

Well, it’s not like Zoro gives a fuck. He tips back the last of his beer and searches his pockets until he finds that precious little baggie. He dumps a bit of powder in his fist, not bothering making a line, and takes it all in.

He moans softly and leans back against the hood of the car, closing his eyes. There it is…bliss. So pure and unaltered. Drives away stray thoughts and puts a lid on that simmering, twisted anger. Puts a lid on that little whisper telling him this is wrong.

He opens his eyes and laughs out loud, startling Baby and Buffalo out of their argument.

“What’s wrong with you?” Buffalo asks, glaring at him.

“You know what I think?” Zoro asks, grinning widely. “I think I just found a way to have a little fun. Buffalo, hand me that list. We’re going hunting.”

* * *

  _I'm gotta feel it and I feel real good_

_I gotta feeling on a Saturday night_

_I wanna bow to the woman_

_Who can help me chase the devil_

_Yeah, help me chase the devil tonight_

_Get down!_

* * *

 He was ten years old when Kuina died. It was a freak accident, something as simple as falling off the stairs. Someone who moved so gracefully with a sword…tripped on her own feet.

He was nine years old when he first fought against her. He used to be so jealous of her, was so angry when his father gave Wado to her instead of him. She laughed when he first challenged her. Messed with his hair and walked away. She laughed the second time, too, but this time she humored him. Beat him easily, and made fun of him like any sister would. She danced around him during the third challenge, and he didn’t even last a full minute during the fourth.

He got better, of course. But still…two thousand fights later, he still lost. And after every time, Kuina would smile widely, play with his hair, and call him weak in that soft, affectionate voice of hers.

And then, fight number two thousand and one was different. No, he didn’t win. He never won. But she didn’t gloat. She didn’t laugh, didn’t pat him on the shoulder, didn’t call him weak…she wasn’t herself that time.

That was also the first time he hated his father. Just for a moment, he hated the man who had made his sister feel so insecure and weak, hated the man who hurt the person he loved the most, the person he looked up to the most.

He didn’t cry during her funeral. He stood, back straight, lip trembling, eyes red…but he didn’t cry. The weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from shedding even a single tear.

He cried later that night. Climbed the roof of his house and watched the stars, and when Sanji silently laid down next to him, he started crying. And Sanji didn’t say anything, didn’t offer a single word of comfort. He just laid there and let him cry, and when the next day came, he didn’t say a word. Didn’t treat him any different. Didn’t make fun of him or call him a child or said that men aren’t supposed to cry.

When he was thirteen, he won his first championship. It was easy, no one was better than him. His father praised him, but it didn’t matter. He was way more happy when Sanji kicked him in the back of the leg and told him not to get a big head. Zoro doesn’t remember what he snapped back, but he does remember how good the onigiri Sanji made tasted.

He remembered being happy, a rice ball on one hand, and Wado in the other.

* * *

  _Gonna chase the devil tonight_

_They chase the devil tonight_

* * *

 He’s run out of Koro. He bought an eight ball, but it barely lasted two days. Caesar doesn’t want to sell him anymore, the fucking prick.

Going to Doffy doesn’t help either. The bird man got all high and mighty on him, talking about wasted potential and using more than selling. Whatever, Zoro pays his dues, who the fuck cares if he’s using?

But taking more is not an issue. Monet has been working with Caesar for months, she always has a couple of grams on her. It’s just a matter of going home with Baby, then sneaking out of her room and into Monet’s during the day.

He doesn’t bother hiding his tracks, searching through the empty room for the drug he _knows_ is there. It _has_ to be there.

And then…there it is. Hidden in a box under her bed, a fucking _quarter ounce_. Zoro laughs out loud and opens the bag with trembling fingers, making sure not to waste even a speck. He just needs a little hit right now, just enough to calm his nerves. Just enough to calm him down, just a little bit. Just a tiny bit. He just needs it, won’t take much.

He can’t afford a moment of clarity or the memories will come back. He doesn’t want to remember, doesn’t want to think. Something bad will happen if he does.

He breathes out a shuddering sigh as the drug fills his system, feeling like a blanket of calmness has fallen over him, smothering him. It takes him a few moments to gather himself, and think about fixing up the place a little bit.

He doesn’t care if Monet finds out someone stole her stash, he just doesn’t want her to know it was him, in case he needs to do it again.

He’s putting the lid back in the box when something catches his attention. A picture, half-sticking out of a bright red folder. Absentmindedly, he pockets the quarter once and pulls out the folder.

It’s a picture of Robin. She’s walking down the street, talking on the phone, her face hidden behind dark glasses, but Zoro easily recognizes her. The folder is filled with information about her. Her job, her position, her home address…her friends. _All_ of them.

He stares at his name at the bottom of the page, underlined and circled in red.

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

Why does Monet have this? How did she figure it out? Has she already told Doffy?

Zoro drops the folder and looks through the rest of the box, pulling out a second folder. He opens it and quickly reads through it, his eyes widening when he realizes what he’s just found.

A list of locations, names, and bank accounts of everyone receiving a shipment of Koro. Kaido in Australia, Capone down south, Kid in Japan, Teach in the Middle East, and Bonney in South America.

And Monet is stealing from all of them. She’s redirected considerable amounts of Koro out of their shipments and into a separate location, selling it to a third party. She takes in the orders and increases the amount when she hands in the order to Caesar, then pays the difference with money pulled from the family.

She’s fucking stealing from _Doffy_.

Zoro glances down at the red folder, where his name is circled in red, then to the piece of paper still in his hand, and grins widely.

Robin is going to owe him so much.

* * *

  _Ready to roll, you see the devil on a post_

_Yeah he's lookin' for a woman_

_Who can soften a rope_

_And drive the little woman to the hoop holes_

* * *

 He made a mistake. Fuck, he made a huge mistake. The quarter ounce he found in Monet’s room is not enough, no way near it. It only lasted about four days, and then he was out. And other drugs just don’t cut it anymore.

What’s worse, Doffy has ordered Caesar to stop selling to members of the family. Koro is a strictly sell-only drug, meaning it can only be sold, not used by members of the Donquixote Family. So Zoro has effectively just lost his hook.

He could’ve blackmailed Monet. Threatened her into feeding his addiction in exchange of keeping her secret. There’s no way she wants Doffy to find out she’s stealing from him, and redirecting a couple of kilos from whoever she’s selling to Zoro won’t make much of a difference.

But he can’t now. Because by the time Zoro runs out of his quarter ounce…Monet’s gone and killed herself.

“Overdosed,” Baby says, staring blankly at the bar. “She _overdosed?_ ”

It’s hard to believe. Monet was not a heavy user. She didn’t use Koro, she just sold it. The most she ever did was weed…and yet they’re supposed to believe she overdose on _Koro_?

Well, whatever way she died…suicide, murder, mistake….Zoro’s just lost his surefire hook.

He returns to his apartment that night to search for more. He knows he doesn’t have anything, but he doesn’t care. He needs to find it, even if it is just a fucking speck. Less than a gram. He _needs_ it.

His mind is a constant mantra of need, every other thought wiped away. He doesn’t care about Doffy’s orders, doesn’t care about Monet’s death, he doesn’t care about anything.

And then, it hits him. There _is_ a way to get more Koro, how was he so stupid? Monet was in charge of shipping out orders for Caesar. She wrote down all the information about the scheduled drop offs, including the ones she was doing for that third party.

All Zoro has to do is intercept one of them. And then everything will be alright.

* * *

  _Fill out when about_

_Ready to roll, I bet I feel real cool_

_I said I feel pretty cool on a Saturday night_

_I'm gonna browse for a woman_

_Who can help me chase the devil_

_Yeah, I'm gonna chase the devil tonight_

* * *

 What is he doing? Why is he here? Wasn’t he at home? Wait, no…he was with Baby. No, with Buffalo, doing another roundup. Wasn’t he? He has dried blood on his hands, but is that someone else’s or his own? His knuckles are busted up, did he punch something?

Yes, he punched a mirror. Why would he do that, though? He doesn’t know. Wait, where is he? He doesn’t recognize anything. Did he get lost? No, he knows this place. But from where? Fuck, his throat hurts.

And it’s cold outside. But he’s sweating. And he’s shaking. He drops Wado accidentally and immediately scrambles to pick up the white sword from the muddy ground. Why is this sword so important? Why does it matter if it’s dirty?

Wait, when did he grab Wado?

Zoro frowns and looks around. He can’t see much, since it is past midnight. He’s in the middle of an open field with an old business trailer parked a couple of feet away. There are old machineries all around, from bulldozers to steam shovels, and even an excavator.

Oh, that’s right, he’s waiting on something. On someone? Fuck, he can’t remember. His hand is shaking and it’s so cold, but he’s fucking sweating like a whore in church. It’s hard to breathe and it feels like his very _bones_ are aching.

And the craving…oh god, the fucking craving. Worse than a craving for water in the middle of the desert, worse than a craving for air at the bottom of the ocean. This craving is complete, absolute, it takes everything that he is, and drives away every other thought.

It’s a fucking _need_.

His phone rings…or wait, has it been ringing this whole time? He takes out his phone and looks at the contact. Doffy. He doesn’t want to speak with him right now, so he hangs up.

Except the phone is still ringing…wait, no…how much time has gone by? Zoro frowns, looking down at the time on his phone…wasn’t it just a second ago that Doffy was calling him? Now he has three missed calls from the man, and five from Baby.

But…oh, his phone is ringing. Zoro looks down at the caller ID and answers when he sees Baby’s name.

“What’s up?” Shit, is that his voice? Why does it sound so raspy? Shit, why does his throat hurt so much? He’s so fucking thirsty…except…his mouth isn’t really dry. In fact, it’s watering.

“ _Zoro? Where the fuck are you!?_ ” Baby yells and Zoro blinks. _“I’ve been trying to reach you for ages! It’s been six fucking days!”_

Six days? Wasn’t he just at his apartment five minutes ago? Wait, how did he get here again? And who’s car is he driving? Well, as long as today’s Thursday, he’s fine. Thursday is an important day. That’s the day he’ll arrive.

Who will arrive?

_“Zoro!”_

“Fuck, stop yelling at me,” Zoro groans, resting his chin on the sword’s hilt. “Your voice is so fucking annoying.”

_“Zoro, I swear to god—are you trying to run away?”_

Run away? Why would he do that? No, no he has to wait for that man.

 _“Zoro, please talk to me_ ,” Baby whispers through the phone. _“I can help you. I know…Doffy will find you, Zoro.”_

“Doffy will,” Zoro repeats. “Yeah…wait, why?”

_“What do you mean ‘why’!? Did you think he wouldn’t find out? You fucking killed Gladius! Or did you somehow forget that?”_

The question is sarcastic, but yeah, Zoro did forget that. He killed Gladius? Who’s Gladius? Why would he do that? Why does it matter?

That man will get here soon. He needs to wait. If he waits, that craving will go away.

_“Zoro, please, talk to me. I can help you. Bellamy will—.”_

She talks too much. Zoro takes out the phone battery and throws his phone away, in case she calls again.

He needs to wait. Wait for the man. The man that will come on Thursday. Is today Thursday? He can check his phone…shit, what happened to his phone?

Zoro frowns and touches his pocket. He doesn’t have his phone. Did he lose it? Doesn’t matter. He just needs to wait.

“Have you been waiting long?”

Zoro startles and looks up, surprised. When did he arrive? Wait, who is he? Ah, he’s the man! The man he’s been waiting for.

“Boy, I sure am glad to see you,” Zoro says, grinning widely. “Dracule Mihawk.”

* * *

  _Chase the devil, I want you to deliver too_

_Put your ass on the street corner_

_Dancin' with your feet_

* * *

 Zoro stands on trembling legs and grins widely. “This is your last stop.”

Mihawk doesn’t look impressed. His eyes sweep over Zoro, and a cold shiver runs down his back. There’s something in that gaze, something dangerous.

“That sword…where did you get it?”

Zoro frowns, looking down at the white sword in his hands. “You want it?” he asks. “We can make a trade. I know you have what I want.”

“Hmm…seems that Nico woman was right,” Mihawk murmurs. “Doflamingo must be looking for you, then.”

Zoro frowns. What is this man talking about? Why is he talking when he should be giving Zoro…giving him what? That’s right, Koro! That’s what he wants, that’s what he fucking needs.

“Hey, man…I won’t tell Doffy,” Zoro promises. “You’re the one Monet was selling to, right? You’re her secret buyer…did she give it to you cheaper?”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Mihawk says, staring at Zoro. “We never planned to let anyone become this addicted. It seems you’re a lost cause.”

“Hey! I got the cards here!” Zoro yells. “I talk to Doffy, and you’re a dead man. What do you think he’ll do when he finds out his precious Russian partner was stealing from him? Did you kill Monet, too? I’ll tell him!”

Mihawk lifts an eyebrow, then flicks his gaze away. “This was a waste of time. You’re of no use to me.”

He’s walking away; he’s walking away again. He’s leaving. No, he can’t leave. Zoro needs him! He can’t leave!

“Hey!” he shouts. Again. “Hey, don’t walk away from me!”

He’s leaving. He’s not stopping. He’s walking away and Zoro has to stop him. But how? This man is dangerous, he knows it. He’s strong and powerful and initiating a fight with him is not a good idea, he’s a swordsman and….

A swordsman. Zoro’s a swordsman, too. He has this sword, doesn’t he?

“Stop!” he yells, but he’s pretty sure what makes Mihawk stop is the sound of Zoro’s blade leaving its sheath.

Mihawk’s gaze stops on the white sword, then his eyes flick over to Zoro’s. “Do you know what it means to draw your sword?” he asks, voice quiet.

His sword? This white sword…he knows how to use it. He’s a swordsman, too. Right? He knows how to handle a blade. Doesn’t he? “I won’t have to hurt you if you give me what I want,” Zoro says, gulping. Why is he scared? His hand is shaking, and it’s not from the cold.

Mihawk turns around completely and Zoro follows the movement of his hand as he reaches for the thick cross pendant on his chest. Mihawk breaks the chain and pulls on the bottom part, revealing a hidden knife.

A _knife_. He wants to fight Zoro with a knife? It should be hilarious, it should be amusing…but instead, it just complete ignites the simmering anger inside of him, the one he’s been trying to keep in check ever since Sanji walked out on him.

He should be careful. He shouldn’t attack. But he does. And once again, it feels surreal. It’s like stepping out of his body, ordering it to move but not really being the one in control. It feels like watching everything through a window, a spectator to the fight that follows.

He knows Mihawk is the better fighter. He knows his thrusts are weak and his feet are clumsy. He knows his grip on the sword is weak, his hand is shaking too much. He knows he’s moving slowly, awkwardly, and he knows he’s showing a thousand and one openings.

He knows Mihawk is completely playing with him, and he knows he will lose this fight.

And the very thought of it makes him so. Fucking. Angry.

It’s not about losing the fight, it’s not about losing his memory. It’s not about Mihawk being stronger than him, or Sanji leaving, or his life going to shit. No, he’s fucking pissed as hell because that man—with the oily green hair and ashy face, with the dark bags under his eyes and starved body, with the shaky limbs and dull eyes—that man _isn’t_ him.

Mihawk stops and takes a step back, causing Zoro to stumble.

“Your eyes…,” Mihawk murmurs. His eyes are boring into Zoro, gazing deeply into the very depths of him. Zoro is frozen, locked in place by those eyes, the spell only broken when Mihawk speaks again. “It seems I was mistaken. Perhaps you’re not as hopeless as I once thought.”

Zoro doesn’t get a chance to reply. He doesn’t know how Mihawk is capable of moving so fast, but in less time than that it takes for him to blink, Mihawk has dropped the small knife and pulled out his sword: a great black beast of a sword, taller than Mihawk himself.

He tries to block the first thrust, but even though he’s able to stop the blade for a moment, Mihawk simply flicks his wrist and changes direction. Zoro’s too slow and pain explodes on his face as the blade grazes him. His vision instantly darkens as something warm and wet covers his face, and he scrambles to wipe away what he knows to be blood before Mihawk strikes again, but he’s too late.

He’s not fast enough. Not strong enough.

The pain is greater than anything else he has felt in his life, but he doesn’t scream.  He can’t. Not as his chest splits open, not as his blood pumps out, not as the blade grazes his rib cage, scarring the very bone.

He can feel the damp earth touching his back and momentarily wonders if it rained. He doesn’t remember. But the earth is wet, his body is cold, but his blood is warm.

The night is dark, and Mihawk stands out with his pale skin and strangely yellow eyes.

“What is your name?”

He can’t scream. No sound of pain comes out. But he can talk. “Roronoa…Zoro.”

“Roronoa Zoro….I will remember the name.”

 _Good_ , he remembers thinking before everything goes black.

* * *

  _Chase the devil tonight_

_They chase the devil tonight_

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my lovely Beta, Zosanlaw  
> Song Chase The Devil by Eagles of Death Metal.


End file.
